Page 44

I lowered my hand, gesturing for the group to crouch. The screams went on and on, and horror slid into the hybrids’ eyes.

One of the other groups had been found. My power burst from me, and I forced the flame from my hands.

Perhaps I could give this group the exact directions to the next stop. I could go fight with the others and return—

“You can’t save them,” one of the older boys said bitterly as he watched me. “It’s too late.”

I’d once thought the worst feeling was terror. I was wrong.

The worst feeling was helplessness. Nothing could be worse than wanting to help someone—to save a life— while knowing it was entirely out of your control.

This was why it was better not to care about anyone than to end up in a situation like this, where there were no good choices left.

“We need to keep moving,” I said.

“Why?” one of the older girls asked. “We’re all going to die. You think the soldiers are going to stop?”

I caught two exhausted nods as I whirled to face her. “No. They’re not going to stop. But better to die trying to live than to sit here and wait for death.”

She stared at me for a long moment. Tears flooded her eyes, and she turned her gaze back in the direction we’d come. Where Darnis lay in a shallow grave.

I didn’t give her any further encouragement. I didn’thave a single kind word left in me.

“Keep moving,” Glenda murmured to her. “You can do it.”

We made it to the first camp. I was too numb to feel anything close to elation, but logically, I knew we were in a better position now. The chest was where Vicer had described, and we pulled out the blankets and food we ideally would have used to spend the night.

But we couldn’t. We had to keep moving. So we ate quickly and took whatever supplies we could carry with us. No one protested as we reburied the chest and began walking once more.

Our pace slowed until it was barely a shuffle. I used my power to light the way, dampening it whenever I heard a noise in the distance.

Eventually, we curled up deep in the forest, children stashed beneath bushes, adults pulling as much undergrowth over us as we could.

I couldn’t sleep, my mind replaying every moment. But the rest would help.

Hours later, more screams cut through the night. To my left, someone’s teeth were chattering. But all of us stayed still, attempting to keep the children quiet. By now, they were exhausted, a few of them even sleeping through the screams.

Finally, the sun began to rise, and I clenched my teeth. I refused to give in to the sick panic dragging vicious claws through my chest. These people wouldlive.

Slowly, quietly, I woke the others. A few moments to duck behind bushes or gulp at water from a nearby stream, and then we were moving once more.

The forest around us was both sanctuary and adversary—the trees and brush providing cover, but the rustle of fallen leaves carving through the silence, each snapped twig underfoot as loud as a thunderclap to my ears.

Our progress was painstakingly slow. The younger children were carried in the arms or on the backs of anyone who could hold them, their weight slowing us even more. Tiny faces were smudged with dirt and tears, wide, fearful eyes looking to us for assurance. All I had to offer were weak smiles and hushed encouragement.

And then, in the distance, the haunting sound of hoofbeats.

My heart plummeted into an abyss. “Down,” I hissed.

Everyone dropped.

By now, the children knew to stay quiet, although the youngest hiccupped through her suppressed sobs. If we’d had young babies in this group, we likely would have been found by now.

The hoofbeats thundered toward us.

“Run!” I ordered, handing the boy I was holding to an older girl. “You know the way.”

My palms turned slick, my entire body went cold, and the metallic taste of terror flooded my mouth. I was all these people had. If I went down, they were next.